


A Serious Discussion

by mangomilkshake



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drunken Shenanigans, Getting Together, Grantaire being Grantaire, I wrote this ages ago lmao, M/M, Miscommunication, Oblivious Enjolras, Probably ooc, no beta we die like barricade boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:00:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25106587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mangomilkshake/pseuds/mangomilkshake
Summary: It was going to happen eventually; one wrong move, one rogue jenga block to topple Grantaire’s entire tower of concealed emotions. Though, in this case, the jenga block in question was a slightly tipsy Courfeyrac.
Relationships: Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 103





	A Serious Discussion

**Author's Note:**

> I won’t lie to you, I got an email from FanFiction.Net and blinked at it for a few moments before remembering that I did indeed have an account. The only work I had posted (this one!!) wasn’t actually as atrocious as I remembered so I’m going to repost it here (with a few tweaks). It may be a little OOC because this was a little while ago and I believe my first fic in this fandom so you’ll have to bear with me :’))  
> Kudos and comments are appreciated!!

It wasn’t that the two of them hadn’t been alone before- there had been minutes, fleeting moments in the library where Grantaire would find himself lingering after a study session (that he had interrupted periodically with cynical jabs at his companion’s unwaveringly fierce work ethic) to watch Enjolras pore over textbooks and wrinkle his nose in thought as he scrutinised the campus survey results Combeferre had provided.

Yes, they had shared those moments when Enjolras would realise that he was not the only one who had neglected to follow a chattering Courfeyrac out the door, and glance up only to catch the other man’s watchful gaze. Enjolras would narrow his eyes and make some snarky comment about not wanting Grantaire to overexert himself and stay longer than needed, since he had clearly already shown maximum effort in the study session.

His typical response would be to lazily smile and give Enjolras the finger.

This, however, was much different. Maybe it was because they were (awkwardly, as neither knew how to initiate small talk) seated on opposite ends of Grantaire’s dorm bed as they waited for Combeferre- the final member of their group for a Social Studies project- to arrive.

It wasn’t until Enjolras felt the buzz of his phone against his jittering leg did either man make any attempt to move. Grantaire ceased drumming his fingers against the wooden bed frame and glanced sideways at his companion’s frowning face, lit by a glaring phone screen in the dim light of the room.

“Combeferre?”

“Yes but- ah, bad news. He can’t make it tonight, though he’s apologising a million times. Something about accidentally leaving a paper ‘til the last minute.”

It was Grantaire’s turn to frown.

“That’s not very Combeferre of him.”

Enjolras inclined his head in agreement, a hint of what Grantaire swore was suspicion flashing in his eyes, “Indeed. What do you want to do? We could ask him to send over the statistics we’ve gathered and go from there-“

“Is there really much point? We have plenty of time, and it would be better if we were all here to work on it.”

The man beside him let out an exasperated exhale and got to his feet. “Your abundance of enthusiasm for this project never fails to amaze me, R,” he drawled, earning him an amused snort.

As he made a beeline for the door, Grantaire’s brows knitted together and he interjected before Enjolras could put his hand on the doorknob.

“Wait, aren’t you going to stay?”

_Idiot. Idiot idiot idiot._

Enjolras arched a golden brow and halted in his tracks. “And why would I do that?”

Grantaire’s brain scrambled for an excuse, and settled on placing a hand on his chest and gaping in mock offence.

“Oh Apollo, you wound me! Are we not brothers in arms? Do you, my closest friend, not wish to enjoy my company?”

Enjolras turned back towards him with a steely gaze, crossing his arms with resigned irritation.

“I don’t want to drink, R.”

“Neither do I!” Grantaire protested as he held up his hands defensively, which was met only with plain disbelief from his blonde companion, “Honestly!”

“Grantaire, are you ill?”

The man in question defiantly swatted away Enjolras’ slender fingers as he mockingly reached to take his temperature.

“Gerroff!”

“Suit yourself. You’re the one who’s been acting strange recently.”

Immediately Grantaire felt his heart begin to hammer in his chest as he willed himself to be swallowed up, _oh God what did that even mean?_ Fortunately, Enjolras seemed not to notice or care for his fluster, and chose instead to let out a huff.

“Oh, go on then. Do enlighten me, if you don’t wish to drink, as to what your intentions are.”

Grantaire swallowed and shifted so that his legs were crossed, ignoring the horror on his friend’s face upon realising he had kept his shoes on.

“I think we should have a serious discussion,” he finally managed to blurt out.

Enjolras let a bark of laughter slip past his lips at the very idea.

“About what?”

“You know. It.”

“And that would be...?”

“Saturday night.”

He frowned as Grantaire squirmed.

“What is there to discuss?” the blonde asked as he took a seat once more on the bed, (with much more dignified posture than his companion) his face betraying mild confusion.

“Oh, you know,” Grantaire muttered, “Courf being a dick.”

Enjolras’ shoulders shook with mirth, “Wasn’t he...rather drunk that evening?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you’re going to have to be more specific.”

Grantaire tucked a traitorous curl of hair behind his ear and shook his head slightly in disbelief. Did he really not remember?

The topic of conversation that evening had been love, for Christ’s sake. Grantaire personally wasn’t impartial to it, but held his guard up with that knowledge that he easily could become the target of some less-than-gentle teasing.

It was Marius’ fault, really. The socially awkward dreamer, bless him, had practically _flounced_ into their default place of gathering, a small social bar not far from campus that didn’t care enough to look too closely at an ID.

Jehan and Bossuet had given the young man encouraging smiles (Grantaire swore he saw a thumbs up?) and listened dutifully as he rattled on about some mysterious yet supposedly gorgeous blonde he knocked into on some disgustingly cliché interaction in the hallway.

Courfeyrac had taken it upon himself to egg the lovesick Marius on, glad, as he put it, that his friend might be “finally getting the pussy he doesn’t deserve, but sorely needs.”

Enjolras (who had looked incredibly uncomfortable with the topic of conversation he had been unwillingly dragged into) had chastised Marius and fixed Courfeyrac with a disapproving glare for “forgetting we have bloody exams soon, Courf, we don’t have have time for this.”

To which his friend had spun round with a drunken grin and declared in a voice dripping with mock sympathy;

“Oh Enjolras, _you_ wouldn’t understand. I do believe you’re incapable of love.”

The other man, taken aback and mildly offended, insisted that he was “perfectly capable of romance when it was necessary, thank you very much.”

Tilting his head back to the other students with a cackle, Courfeyrac announced mockingly, “Gents, the doting Enjolras and his one true love, a perfect exam score.”

The blonde’s startling blue eyes had flashed with irritation as he gave the laughing group an icy stare.

“If anyone showed interest in me then perhaps I would do so back to them. I suppose we’ll just have to wait for that to happen, won’t we?”

Courfeyrac blinked slowly before again bursting into hysterical laughter, much to Enjolras’ growing frustration. Jehan, who was now listening intently to the conversation, had gently pointed out to their leader that “he wouldn’t know if someone liked him even if they serenaded him in the park.”

Grantaire had been observing this entire interaction with mild amusement as he occasionally raised a bottle to his lips, particularly enjoying the smattering of angry and embarrassed flush that graced Enjolras’ cheeks. Red looked very good on him.

“I would!”

“Oh?” Courfeyrac had responded, a sly look passing over his face that had Grantaire shifting with unease, “You would know if someone was romantically interested in you?”

“Yes, Courf, I believe I would,” Enjolras had replied coolly.

“If their name began with G and ended with ‘Rantaire?”

Regrettably, Grantaire had taken a generous sip of the beverage he had been clutching, and upon this being spoken, spat it out in shock and launched into a violent coughing fit that managed to attract the attention of almost everyone in the group. Enjolras, however, kept his eyes trained on his giggling friend with an unimpressed frown, barely reacting to what had been said.

Before the blonde could reply, Courfeyrac pushed himself up, saluted with a broad grin, and sauntered off with an air of heavy inebriation and smugness. Grantaire had a far less grand exit, choosing to open his mouth, close it again, and promptly leave the room.

That had not been an enjoyable night.

Grantaire summarised this entire experience to Enjolras, fiddling nervously with his fingers as his companion sat in thoughtful silence, mere inches from him. Finally, he spoke up.

“Forgive me if I fail to see why typical Courfeyrac behaviour is worthy of a- how did you put it?- ‘serious’ discussion.”

Grantaire twisted his head sharply to gape at the blonde, who was blinking obliviously back at him.

“But- I mean- what?”

After a beat, he watched as a revelation dawned in Enjolras’ eyes (that he had to mentally hit himself for gazing into for just long enough to make it weird).

“Oh. Is this about you being in love with me?” he asked, with a level of disinterest that Grantaire could barely fathom. The words pooled in the bottom of his stomach, and for a moment he thought he might vomit. Enjolras heavily misinterpreted Grantaire’s horror, and let out a snort at his stricken expression.

“Don’t fret, R, I’ve been around Courf long enough to know when he’s being sarcastic.”

And that was when Grantaire absolutely lost it.

Gasping for air as he nearly wet himself laughing, he shook with mirth on the bed while Enjolras sat in stunned silence.

“There is no possible way,” Grantaire finally panted when his fit was over, “That you’re not taking the absolute piss right now.”

Dumbstruck, the blonde stared at his friend, who was desperately trying to compose himself between uncontrollable giggles. His brows knit together as his brain attempted to decipher whether Grantaire was trying to mock him or if he’d finally lost his mind.

“Forgive me if I fail to see what’s so incredibly hilarious,” Enjolras retorted, “Do you mean to tell me that he wasn’t, in fact being sar- oh. _Oh!”_

As the realisation hit him like a truck, the haughty expression slid off his face, swiftly replaced with one of shock, confusion and humiliation.

Grantaire’s cackling resumed as Enjolras’ cheeks became heated and wide, blue eyes met his.

“I said that I would know if someone was romantically- oh my _God,”_

“I know,” the other man snickered, trying to repress what was actually happening at that very moment. Enjolras knew. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to kiss or kill Courfeyrac.

“He practically _told me.”_

_“I know.”_

“Will you _stop laughing at me R,_ this isn’t funny!”

“It is a bit-“

Unfortunately, Grantaire’s was not permitted the chance to finish his sentence, as Enjolras had launched himself across the bed with furious determination, and was attempting to shut his friend up by closing the distance between their lips.

It was working.

Grantaire pulled away frozen with shock, acknowledging both what had just happened, and that Enjolras was halfway in his lap.

“What was _that?”_

“Was it not _obvious,_ Grantaire?”

“I mean, I get that you- oh my _God you just kissed me-!”_

“Yes, R, but what do you mean _what was that??”_

His head swam with questions as he tried to register what Enjolras had asked and formulate an answer without sounding snarky. It was a lot to process in a matter of seconds, and _holy shit his Apollo had just kissed him what does he do what does he do-_

“Well- you see- it was rather, uh...” Grantaire waved his arms around in an apparent attempt to pluck the right words from the air, “...passionate. But... sloppy.”

_“Sloppy??”_

“Yes, well, you clearly haven’t had much practice-“

Grantaire fought the urge to snicker as Enjolras visibly tried not to look offended. In his 3am fantasies, his friend was steady and sure, catching his lips in an intoxicating taste of smouldering hickory wood and something he couldn’t quite place (liberty, perhaps?)

The real Enjolras, his Enjolras, had no less fervour, yet lacked a certain...skilfulness. He was everywhere at once, smothering Grantaire in fiery affection. There was no taste, only hot breath on his cheek and slight awkward fumbling.

He quite liked it.

“That’s not to say I wasn’t a fan,” he hastily added, “I wouldn’t mind if...”

“If?”

“If you wanted to do it again.”

Enjolras smiled.

_

**CourfTheGreat:** ur going to kill me

**CourfTheGreat:** but I need a favour

**CourfTheGreat:** it’s a mega emergency

**CourfTheGreat:** hey

**CourfTheGreat:** hey

**CourfTheGreat:** hey

**Combeferre:** Yes I’m here, I’m just heading over to R and Jehan’s dorm. We have to work on this group project, and you know Enj won’t let me be distracted.

**Combeferre:** But what’s the favour?

**CourfTheGreat:** yeah about that

**CourfTheGreat:** could you like

**CourfTheGreat:** not go

**Combeferre:** What?? Why?

**CourfTheGreat:** bc

**CourfTheGreat:** enjy boy has been stressed af recently

**CourfTheGreat:** he needs some relief

**CourfTheGreat:** sooo

**CourfTheGreat:** those two alone

**CourfTheGreat:** you know what I’m sayin? ;)

**Combeferre:** Are you kidding me.

**CourfTheGreat:** am I the kind to kid?

**CourfTheGreat:** thought not

**CourfTheGreat:** plz

**CourfTheGreat:** plzzzzz

**CourfTheGreat:** for mee???

**Combeferre:** You’re putting a lot of faith in Grantaire here. 

**CourfTheGreat:** yah 

**CourfTheGreat:** I believe in him tho!! 

**CourfTheGreat:** like,,,he’s gotta confess someday right?? 

**Combeferre:** You have no idea how much you owe me.

**CourfTheGreat:** thankuuuuu!!!!!!

**CourfTheGreat:** ur literally the best

**Combeferre:** This is never happening again. Enjolras will murder me if he finds out.

**CourfTheGreat:** he’ll kill me too dw!!

**CourfTheGreat:** btw is my game still changed in your phone??

**CourfTheGreat:** name*

**Combeferre:** Of course.

**CourfTheGreat:** yayy ;))

**CourfTheGreat:** ur the best

**Combeferre:** The things I do for you.


End file.
